If Not For The Knight, Debbie Boek [electronic reader TXT] 📗

With the river so close, they would also be able to have supplies brought in easier and it would act as a natural border along one side of the castle, leaving any assailants open to their arrows, should they try to cross on that side.

They would not be able to encircle the existing village in the bailey, which would contain the Keep and other outbuildings. It would be close enough though, that the villagers would be able to get inside the grounds and behind the protection of the walls in plenty of time, should trouble arise.

They did not return to the Manor until well after dark. Skeet was waiting for them on the steps and took their horses to feed and stable them.

When Calder came down to the Hall after checking on his brother, he saw Regan and her father sitting near the fire amidst his knights. Both looked very uncomfortable.

His brother's condition was deteriorating fast and he feared the surgeon would not arrive in time. Aric was now barely able to get words out of his dry, parched throat, as Calder tried in vain to reassure him that he would be all right. Aric fell into a deep sleep shortly after Calder got to his room. Leaving Devona to tend to Aric, weeping as she mopped her husband's fevered brow with a damp cloth, Calder returned downstairs.

The sight of Regan immediately melted some of his frustration and anger.

“Join me,” he called to the two of them as he sat at the long rear table. They stood, Regan taking her father's arm to assist him, and slowly made their way around the large, bulky knights to his table.

They both refused the food that he offered. Filbert gratefully acknowledged his vast thirst, though, so Calder had the village woman bring him some ale.

In no mood for any further aggravation that evening, he watched in annoyance as she sloppily jostled the tankard of ale so that it spilled on Regan. But it was the caustic stare she threw in the younger woman's direction that pushed him over the edge.

“What is your name?” Calder snapped at the village woman.

“lona,” she answered nervously, realizing too late that she had caught his attention.

“These people are my guests and you will serve them as respectfully as you would me and my knights.”

“Yes, Milord,” she mumbled.

“Now, apologize and wipe up the ale you spilled all over them. Do not come to this Manor again. I will find someone else who is able to fulfill your duties properly.”

“Yes, Milord,” she said, trying not to cry as she darted between Regan and Filbert to clean up the mess she had made. She started to scuttle away when he bellowed at her again.

“I said to apologize to my guests.”

“Please forgive my rudeness and accept my apology for makin' a mess on ye,” she said, with a pleading look at Filbert.

“Your apology is accepted, lona,” Filbert replied graciously, as she scampered back to the kitchen. Regan did not respond, just stared down at her hands which were tightly folded in her lap.

Filbert got up his courage, cleared his throat and determined to speak his mind to this insolent new Lord.

“There was no need for you to treat her so harshly, Milord.”

The laughter and chatter of his knights stopped abruptly when they heard Filbert's words. No vassal was allowed to speak to their Lord in such a way and they waited to see what Calder would do.

Lowering the piece of bread that he had just been preparing to bite into, Calder stared hard into Filbert's eyes. “Maybe you do not mind that these people of yours treat your own daughter as an unwanted leper, but I do. Had you been man enough to take up Regan’s defense before now, perhaps they would not find it as easy to treat her so callously and, perhaps, she would not have become so used to being treated with such disrespect. I will not have it. I would be ashamed to call myself her father if I allowed others to abuse her as I have seen them do and sat idly by as they did so.”

Filbert's cheeks bloomed crimson in embarrassment, knowing Calder spoke the truth. He was an old man though and felt the need to keep peace with the neighbors that he had lived with his entire life. He never came to his daughter's defense, nor did Edgar. They left her to face the ridicule of the other villagers alone.

“I am sorry, Milord. What you say is the truth and shames me greatly.” He hung his head and Regan reached over to grab his hand.

“Must you bully everyone you see tonight, Milord? Is it my turn next?” she asked him sharply.

He looked at her in surprise. He had been defending her honor and, for some ungodly reason, she was now angry at him for doing so.

“I hadn't planned on it, but I can accommodate you, if that is your wish,” he answered in a low, angry voice.

Filbert watched as the two of them stared at each other, sparks shooting from their eyes. He could feel the tension between them, but could not understand the reason for it, not until he realized that it was his own grandson's eyes looking out from Calder's face.

So, the malicious gossip about Radolf's parentage was true. He had refused to believe such a thing of his daughter but could not deny the truth when it was staring him in the face. He now understood what was going on and why. He could feel the charge in the air surrounding Regan and Calder and knew there was still much to be resolved between them, even if they did not realize it themselves.

“I have assigned the three groups as you requested, Milord,” Filbert said loudly, breaking the strange spell that held them.

Calder took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to rid himself of his anger. He dragged his eyes from Regan's reluctantly and turned to her father.

“To begin with, we will have three separate operations and the men should be divided between them as needed. Some will have to tear down what my brother began, the timber and stone salvaged and brought to the new site. Another group will need to clear the forest around the area we will build on, and the wood will have to be made ready for use. The last group will need to begin digging for the foundation.”

Calder looked at Filbert to be sure he was grasping what was said. He nodded in satisfaction when he saw how closely Filbert was concentrating on his words.

“What of the women?” Filbert asked. “They will not be able to do such heavy work.”

“We will probably have more use for them later on, once the actual building starts. For now, find things they are able to do to keep them busy, the men will need food and drink while they work, they will need messengers sent between the groups; you will be able to find something for them.”

“Yes, Milord,” Filbert answered.

“Is there a place nearby where rocks can be quarried?” Calder asked.

“Yes, I know of a place not far from here.”

“Good. We will not need the stone yet, but it is helpful to know it is available for our use. Stone will make a better fortress than wood.” Calder smiled. “It is much more difficult to burn.”

“That it is, Milord,” Filbert returned. He was beginning to feel better about this job and this new Lord. Young as he was, he seemed organized and intelligent. Perhaps things would work out for the village after all.

“Graeham,” Calder waved him over “this is Filbert, my steward. He will be working closely with you on the building of the castle. You and your men will go with him tomorrow to show him where the foundation is to be dug and the forest cleared.”

“Yes, Milord.” Graeham took the seat next to Filbert and began to speak excitedly about the plans they had for the new castle.

Calder listened for a moment, and then turned his attention back to Regan. Steepling his fingers in front of him and placing his chin upon them, he stared into her eyes.

“Are you ready to listen to me now, Mistress Regan?” He asked the question quietly, with the hint of a smile gracing his lips.

“Will you be reasonable while speaking, Milord?” she returned, her green eyes sparkling.

“I will do my best.”

“Well, of course then, please enlighten me as to my new duties.”

Calder's mood turned more serious. “First, I will need a complete list of the members of each and every household. Can you handle that?”

Raising a delicate eyebrow, she responded, “I believe so, Milord.”

He could not help but smile at the look she gave him. “Good, then you must determine the extent of each of the household's lands, property and livestock. Can you handle that?”

“It will be a more difficult task, Milord,” she responded honestly.

“Yes, but it is very important. It will be the basis of how much they are taxed. First you talk with them directly and see if they will give you the information you require.” He saw the look of distress appear on her face. “I will be assigning one of my men to be with you at each stop.”

Regan let out a sigh of relief, her face relaxing a little as he continued. “Then the figures will come into play. We will have to determine how much